


Endeavor

by Samayla



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Depression, Murder, Rhys just really needs a hug, Suicidal Thoughts, Under the Mountain - Freeform, Winter Court massacre, brief mention of noncon, death of children, hoplessness, non-graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 20:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12755259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samayla/pseuds/Samayla
Summary: Kallias’s eyes flared like blue flame. “You stood beside her throne while the order was given.”I watched, stomach twisting, as Rhys’s golden skin paled. “I tried to stop it.”“Tell that to the parents of the two dozen younglings she butchered,” Kallias said. “That you tried.”-A Court of Wings and Ruin, by Sarah J. Maas-Rhys is alone in the dark with a whole mountain on top of him.





	Endeavor

**Author's Note:**

> Also on my tumblr: http://samayla.tumblr.com/post/167613337904/endeavor

He’d overstepped.

Rhys ducked his head beneath the bathwater as tears burned his eyes once more. He opened his eyes and let the soap burn at them for awhile instead.

He’d miscalculated, offended Amarantha, and the cost…

Kallias was alive, thanks to Rhys, but two dozen younglings had taken his place. Not just killed, but _shattered_.

Two dozen of them.

He hoped they’d been killed, after everything. The soldiers had left their families to do it. Had tortured them with their own fledgling powers, then let the other daemati play with them until their minds broke. They’d left their families to kill them in the end, when he couldn’t force himself to watch anymore.

He came up from the water gasping and wishing his body didn’t have quite such a strong will to survive.

Maybe surviving was to be his punishment.

And Kallias, the look he’d given him…

The Winter Lord didn’t even know the worst yet. Just the number. Two dozen. That was all the soldiers had said upon returning. The number was bad enough.

It was horrific.

Kallias wouldn’t learn the details for a day or two yet. Not until the servant Amarantha had allowed him to send, returned with news, with details. When he learned about the cruelty of it all, heard about the scenes Rhys had watched played out in the soldiers’ minds as Amarantha fucked him through the night —

Rhus lurched over the side of the tub and vomited.

He heard the mess splash across the tile, but with the cool darkness filling the room, he couldn’t see it. He counted it a small mercy. He wiped his mouth and slid beneath the water once again.

He’d tried.

He’d clung to as many of the soldiers’ minds as he could, but between the curse and the distance, he couldn’t hold them. Their minds slid out of his grasp like grains of sand, faster and faster the harder he tried to hold on.

The children’s minds had been easier.

He’d forced a few to silence and stillness in their meager hiding places. He hadn’t let them panic and give themselves away as their friends and siblings were murdered.

Others, he had led deep within their own minds, where the horror couldn’t reach them anymore. The daemati dragged them back out when he got to them, but at least Rhys had given them some relief in the meantime.

A few, he had wrapped in darkness. He snuffed out that vital part of their souls before the other daemati could tear into it. He’d made it look like they’d given up and broken in their terror, but they’d fought. They’d struggled like trapped birds as he destroyed them as gently as he knew how.

Rhys surged up for air again, and the water sloshed over the sides of the tub.

He’d tried.

He’d tried.

He was so tired of _trying_.

For nearly half a century, he had tried to keep hope alive, tried to mitigate Amarantha’s destruction, tried to save what was most important.

And for what?

He was her lap dog, her Whore. He’d become a killer of _children_.

Rhys couldn’t get enough air. He couldn’t _breathe_ as he clung to the edge of the tub and tears streamed from his eyes.

Three.

He had saved three, and a High Lord who would hate him for it.

He’d tried. He’d done as much as he could, more than anyone else dared.

The darkness in the air shifted around him, became heavier. Gone was the darkness of cloud-obscured starlight, with its whispered promise of a rosy dawn to come. In its place surged the deep, crushing, suffocating blackness of a mountain’s roots.

His sobbing slowed and finally stopped, and after the echoes had faded, there was nothing.

He was small and alone with an entire mountain on top of him.

He laid his aching head against the cool marble of the tub’s edge and waited for the mountain to crush him.

He’d tried.

He’d done as much as he could, and it was more than anyone else dared.

He waited, but the mountain didn’t crush him. Perhaps it was waiting for Kallias to hear the worst, to look at Rhys and call him Monster and mean it.

Some small, traitorous part of his soul flickered back to life at that. Maybe Kallias would hear of the three Rhys had saved. Maybe they’d tell the messenger how they’d been held in their hiding places by claws of night. Maybe Kallias would understand what must have happened. He’d call him Monster in front of the court. He’d do it for Amarantha’s benefit, just as Rhys played the part, but they would both know better.

A star kindled in the darkness, followed by three others.

As long as Kallias was alive, Winter’s rebellion still had a chance. It wasn’t much of a chance, but if three younglings could escape Amarantha’s clutches, there was still hope for the rest of them. Even if Kallias called him Monster and meant it, there was still hope.

It took almost more energy than Rhys could spare, but he conjured more stars to chase away that lonely darkness. One for each child he hadn’t been able to save. They were dead, but he’d spared them what he could, and that had to be worth something.

_Kasia. Fenella. Deva. Olwin. Meara. Baine._

He named each star as it flared to life.

_Estar. Elmas. Auris. Roshan. Kimber. Nadira._

Faster and faster the stars came, and soon the Winter Court children were joined by _Mor, Azriel, Cassian,_ and _Amren. Nuala, Cerridwen, Clotho, Sevenda, Rita, Madja,_ and a thousand others from Velaris and beyond.

Only when the room glowed bright as daylight did Rhys stop summoning stars.

He laid there, his cheek on the cool marble, and gazed upon his stars until his bath turned cold.

He was so tired of trying, but for them, for all of them, he’d keep going. He would do as much as he could, more than anyone else dared.

He wished away the mess on the floor and dragged a towel around his shoulders as he climbed out of the bath.


End file.
